


Five

by MirrorMystic



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Drabble, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 13:31:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11082600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirrorMystic/pseuds/MirrorMystic
Summary: The rumors at Shujin Academy said that Ann Takamaki was easy- that she’d hook up with anybody. The truth of the matter was: not just anybody.A short set of drabbles; of Ann’s five senses, and five loves.





	Five

**Author's Note:**

> Short, and sweet. Dipping my toe into polythieves fic, though it's only there if you squint. I hope you all enjoy the read.

~*~  
  
Ann is no stranger to having eyes on her.  
  
When she was young, people stared at her, sky-blue eyes and flaxen hair in a sea of black. When she got older, the stares gained an edge. Ann sharpened herself against those stares, gaining an edge of her own where others only saw curves.  
  
When she first met Akira, she felt that edge, the light glinting off his glasses, hiding his eyes. She went stiff, guarded, feeling herself in crosshairs.  
  
Now she catches his gaze across the cafe- stormy-gray, secretive, soft with concern.  
  
Ann doesn’t know what he sees; not exactly. But she feels safe under his eyes.  
  
~*~  
  
There’s something about Makoto’s voice. Gentle one moment, commanding the next.  
  
“Do you sing?” Ann had asked her, once, when they were supposed to have been studying. Makoto had scoffed.  
  
“Do I look like somebody who belongs on a stage?”  
  
Her wandering mind took her to a stage, but Makoto wasn’t singing. Makoto was whispering in her ear while tying a blindfold around her eyes- a threat, bound in steel, wrapped in silk.  
  
“Are you even listening to me?” Makoto asks, with that hint of steel to her voice.  
  
“Yes,” Ann says, sincerely, though she’s not thinking of schoolwork at all.  
  
~*~  
  
Ann’s Sundays with Shiho are rare, and they are precious.  
  
They call, of course. Every night, to say goodnight. They text. They catch each other online, screen-share movies together, link each other to memes, listicles, recipes, cat pictures.  
  
None of that compares to when Shiho throws her arms around Ann’s neck at the station gate, and Ann breathes in the countryside caught in her hair.  
  
The scent of honeysuckle and spring lingers long after Shiho takes the train home; on fingers, on lips, and on the calendar on Ann’s wall, the Sunday two weeks from now circled in red.  
  
~*~  
  
It’s no secret that Ann loves sweets.  
  
Everyone gives her grief for it. The guys at the modeling agency. Her parents, when they’re ever home long enough to share a meal with her. Even Shiho, whom Ann has yet to convince that crepes and ice cream are a perfectly nutritious breakfast.  
  
That’s why Ann loves eating with Ryuji, and not just because he doesn’t give a shit about ‘proper, ladylike bites’.  
  
“Hey,” Ryuji says, across the table at the Wilton Buffet, during their third monthly Steak & Cake meetup.  
  
“What?”  
  
“I’ll race you.”  
  
“Fuck off,” Ann laughs, her plate piled high. Tonight will be something to savor.  
  
~*~  
  
So many things can be said with a touch.  
  
Casually, when Ryuji bumps his elbow against hers. Intimately, when Shiho presses her forehead into hers, and her lips are only inches away. Subtly, when Akira catches her eyes across a room. Or not so subtly, when Makoto hurls her out of the way of an incoming attack, and her vicious reprisal shatters a Shadow’s jaw.  
  
Little touches, throughout the day, for a girl who, mere months ago, kept everyone at arms’ length.  
  
It’s Ryuji, looping an arm over her shoulders and excitedly shoving this month’s Shonen Jump into her hands. It’s Akira, brewing coffee in comfortable silence, wordlessly setting a mug down in front of her. It’s Makoto beside her, explaining the equation for a third time, reaching for Ann’s eraser and Ann blushing when their fingers meet.  
  
It’s the buzz in her pocket when Shiho calls, and Ann rushes out the door.  
  
And when she steps back into Leblanc, all smiles, clutching her phone to her heart, it’s Ryuji’s teasing laughter, Akira’s smirk, and Makoto’s knowing smile.  
  
It’s the warmth in their eyes as they welcome her home.  
  
~*~


End file.
